


Flip

by JustineDelarge



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dominance, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Power Play, Submission, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:08:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustineDelarge/pseuds/JustineDelarge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the fact that Sam's been the dominant one since they began this thing they do, he's harbored a secret desire for a very long time. Dean's not the only Winchester that needs it a little rough sometimes, and the time is finally right for Sam to ask for what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flip

After countless times of Sam taking from Dean what he wanted, demanding Dean open to him, claiming his pleasure and returning it threefold, pinning Dean beneath him and making him give himself over to his strong little brother, holding him down by the shoulders and riding him until he was satiated, making Dean give it up to Sam a thousand different ways, Sam finally cracked.

“Dean?”

“Mmm?” A sleepy and sated Dean stirred, nuzzling into Sam’s neck.

“You know I want this, right? I mean, you’re totally sure, right?”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, Sam. After like the hundredth time of you jamming your cock down my throat, I got the picture.”

Sam was quiet for a long moment, just breathing. Dean brushed his fingers over Sam’s jaw and gently turned his face towards him, backlit by the red and blue neon light bleeding through the motel window curtain.

“Sam.”

“Could you…”

“Whatever it is, Sammy, you know I’ll say yes. So shoot.”

“Next time… could you… make me?”

Dean blinked, confused.

Sam tried again. “C-could you, like…” Suddenly, Sam was bashful. Sam, who could spew sweet, dirty talk like nobody’s business, and do the most deliciously filthy things to his big brother, was stammering, at a loss for words.

Dean’s focus honed on in Sam, razor-sharp. “Hey. It’s ok. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

Sam swallowed hard. “Can you…play rough with me? Like I do with you? Make me…”

And Dean understood. “Make you take it?”

Sam’s breath seemed to get stuck somewhere deep inside his chest, and then kick free. “Yeah.”

Dean’s fingers tightened around Sam’s wrist, just slightly. “You want me to top you.”

A sweet, shivery sigh, and such a hopeful, scared look it broke Dean’s heart. “…would, would that be ok?”

Before Dean could speak, Sam spilled over with words. “It’s not that I don’t like how we’ve been doing it. I love it. I really fucking love it. You have no idea. It’s like… but sometimes, I wish… but I know that you never wanted to push me into doing anything I didn’t want to and…”

And Dean got it. He pulled Sam closer, breathing in the scent of his shampoo.

“If you’ve got me pinned down, I can’t freak out that I’m taking advantage of you.”

Sam smiled, a sweet, forlorn curl of his lips. “Pinning you down is just about the hottest thing I’ve ever done, dude.”

“But the fact remains.”

“Yeah.”

“But you want me to.”

Sam nipped at Dean’s collarbone. “Fuck yes, I want you to.”

Dean shifted position. “Want me to get rough. Take what I want.”

Sam’s fingers, lightly pressed over Dean’s heart, tightened convulsively. “Mmm.”

Suddenly, Dean was very interested.

“Want me to hold you down? Make you do whatever I want?” 

Sam swallowed hard. Based on the pressure against Dean’s thigh, suddenly Sam was also very interested in how the conversation was progressing. 

“Is that ok?”

“Oh yeah, baby boy.” Dean leaned over Sam and wrapping his fingers tightly in Sam’s hair and pulling his head back, kissed him hard, harder than his usual kiss, driving his tongue into Sam’s mouth until he arched up into Dean and gasped. “That’s real fuckin’ ok.”

 

 

**Part 2**

**A day later**

 “Sure you want this?”

Sam didn’t hesitate.  “Yes.”

Dean grinned his trademark cocksure grin. “Careful what you wish for…” He stripped off his brown leather jacket and tossed it over the bed-for-gear.

He took a few steps toward Sam, sitting on the edge of the bed.. Something about the way he moved was different. Like how he moved on a hunt. Body totally alert, poised, dangerous. And so fucking beautiful it hurt.

Sam shivered.

This was not lost on Dean.

“Hmm. You really do want this. Don’t you Sammy.”

Sam’s mouth twitched.

“How long?”

Sam cocked his head to the side.

“Don’t play shy. How long have you wanted it like this.”

Sam’s gaze dropped to the floor, unable to hold eye contact with Dean.

“That long, huh?” Dean walked a few steps closer.

Sam said nothing. Dean gripped his jaw hard and forced his head up. “I ask you a question, Sam, you answer me.”

Sam remembered to breathe. “Remember Santa Isabel?” Dean remembered. The house at the end of the cul-de-sac. Dean was 13, so that meant Sam was…

“Sam.”

“First fantasy I ever had. You tying me to a tree and kissing me.”

Dean couldn’t stop the shiver that rolled through him from his shoulders all the way down.

“Sam. You were what, nine?”

Sam stared at Dean steadily.  “Kept telling you I wanted you first. You didn’t believe me.”

“Nine.”

“So what.”

Dean closed his eyes at the image that tore through him. So forbidden. So unbelievably erotic.

“Is it weird that I love you even more now?”

“Compared to your nine-year-old little brother daydreaming about you tying him up and making him kiss you? Not so much.”

Dean tangled his fingers in Sam’s hair, tightening them slowly, so slowly, watching Sam’s features carefully, waiting for it. There. Lips parting, pupils dilating, a small moan escaping his lips. That pain/pleasure balance. “Gonna make you, little brother.” Sam gasped, squirming in place. Dean dropped one knee down on Sam’s right side, swung the other over and settled down, pushing Sam onto the mattress, seizing both wrists and pinning them above Sam’s head. “Fuck yeah. Gonna make you.”

He drove his tongue into Sam’s mouth, not lingering on his soft lips or teasing along the line of his teeth, but driving it deep, forcing Sam to suck on it. He made a soft sound of approval, and Sam arched up into him, shaking underneath him, making such beautiful broken sounds, on the verge of coming just from Dean holding him down and kissing him.

Dean made a mental note to get Sam out in a forest and tie him to a tree.

Pinning both wrists above his head with one hand, Dean dropped his other down and shoved Sam’s t-shirt up, pinched a nipple cruelly hard.

He drank down the cry Sam made, mouth trapped under his.

He increased the pressure, Sam broke the kiss, panting. “Fuck. Easy. Go easy.”

“Not what you said you wanted, Sammy. And not what I want. And isn’t that what this is all about? Making you do what I want?”

Sam, wide-eyed, nodded.

“So shut the fuck up and take it.” Dean pinched harder, closing his teeth down on the other nipple and biting gently at first, then harder and harder, until Sam was writhing under him, fists tearing at the blankets, uttering words like “fuck” and “Christ” and “please.”

“What? Please what?” Dean found he really liked submissive Sam.

Sam stammered. “Please… anything. Whatever you want. But… it hurts, Dean.”

Dean grinned, wolfish. “I know.”

He eased up for a second. But only a second. “You want me to fuck you, baby boy?” Sam nodded furiously. “Then lay there and fucking take it. I know you can. Don’t pussy out on me.”

And so Sam clawed the sheets and cried out and writhed under Dean as he nipped and bit and pinched his nipples hard, harder, making it hurt so deliciously, testing how bad Sam really wanted it.

Sam wanted it. Really bad.

“Good boy.” Sam let his head fall to the side, gasping, tears in his eyes. “You earned the next part.”

“What’s that?”

Dean stood up and popped open his jeans with one hand. “Sucking my cock.”

Dean was absolutely right about Sam. That was a reward in his eyes.

Sam was a master cocksucker. He could drive Dean to incoherent moans in no time flat. But this? This was a whole other game. Sam sucked Dean’s cock like a man possessed, like he was desperate to please, to do anything and everything to give Dean as much pleasure as humanly possible.

And that was exactly Sam’s motivation. He kept his mouth sloppy wet, shamelessly sucking and licking Dean’s cock, not caring about the sounds he was making, moaning at how good it felt, how good Dean tasted, humming with the sheer pleasure of taking Dean into his mouth, sealing his lips around the shaft and sucking as he slid down to the base, sucking harder as he pulled back, licking along the shaft as he did it, flicking his tongue on the sensitive spot right under the head, digging the tip of his tongue into the slit to worry out another drop of pre-cum, making such wanton sounds that it sounded like it was him getting the best blow job of his life.

“Goddamn, Sammy, should have done this years ago… holy shit… fuck…” Dean felt himself getting weak in the knees.

He stripped off his clothes. “Sam. Take your clothes off.” Sam obeyed, then lay back on the bed on his elbows.

Dean straddled his chest, pushed him down on his back, pinned his shoulders down with his knees. “Open your mouth.”

Sam shivered, and did what he was told. Dean raised Sam’s head and placed both pillows underneath it, posing his head at just the right angle, and slipped his cock into Sam’s mouth. “Keep your jaw relaxed. Gonna fuck your mouth. Just take it.”

Sam held his mouth open, sucking hard as Dean fucked his mouth deep and rough, saliva dripping out of the corners of his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes as Dean’s cock hit the back of his throat. “Yeah, Sammy. Good boy. Take it.” Dean brushed the hair back from Sam’s face, staring down at him, green eyes darkened to sea-emerald. Sam breathed in when Dean’s cock slipped out, allowing air into his throat, and willed his gag reflex into submission when Dean drove back in, fucking his throat, pumping his hips, both hands tangled in his hair, just using his mouth the way Sam had dreamed of Dean doing for so many years.

“Christ, Sam. Born to suck my cock.” Sam nodded, mouth full of Dean.

Dean pulled out, and Sam made a sad, deprived sound. Dean laughed. “Don’t worry, baby boy. Gonna make you suck my cock some more later. A whole lot more.” He drove back in for just a few thrusts, blocking Sam’s breathing until he clutched at Dean’s thighs, eyes wide. Dean pulled out again, allowing Sam to breathe. “God, so fucking hot when you’re choking on my cock.” Sam blinked under the weight of Dean’s approval, basking in it.

“But right now, I wanna fuck you, Sam. Wanna make you take my cock up your ass. Gonna fuck you until you beg me to come.” Sam’s eyes went wide. “And then I’m gonna fuck you some more. Not gonna let you come until you’re a fucking wreck, Sam. Sobbing and grabbing at me and begging me so pretty.”

And Dean never made promises he couldn’t keep. He slicked himself up, worked his cock into Sam’s tight ass without so much as a finger to loosen him up. Just groaned, “C’mon, Sammy. Take it. Show me how bad you want it.” and just took what he needed.

Sam grabbed the backs of his knees and held his thighs wide open for Dean, gasped and shuddered and tried to make himself open to Dean, because Dean was going to take what he wanted whether he did or not. “Yeah, Sammy. Hurts a little? But you love it. Don’t you. My cock working you open. Better relax, sweetheart. Give it up for me. Fuck. So tight…”

Dean finally slid all the way in to the base.”So good for me. Gonna fuck you so hard, Sam.”

Sam’s voice was wrecked. “Do it. Fuck me. Make it hurt.”

Dean gasped at that, swore, grabbed onto the backs of Sam’s thighs and went to town. He drew nearly all the way out on each stroke and slammed back in, working Sam relentlessly, back muscles flexing, then shortening the stroke and driving in as deep as he could, fucking his little brother with a vengeance. “Mine. Understand me? Mine. This ass is mine. Your cock is mine. All of you, fucking mine.”

Sam shuddered, so close to breaking apart for Dean. “Yours. Fuck. Dean. Please. Let me come. Wanna come so hard for you. Please.”

Dean’s grin was positively Machiavellian. “No.” He gripped the base of Sam’s cock and squeezed hard. Sam’s body stuttered and slid and skidded off the rails, but he did not come.

Dean hauled Sam over onto his hands and knees. “Don’t come until I give you permission.” And Dean fucked Sam like he was trying to set a record. He drove his thick cock into Sam hard and rough, hitting all angles, spanking his ass until it was bright red, and Sam’s voice was as raspy from crying out as a two-pack-a-day smoker. He reached around, pulled Sam up, made him wag his hips like he fucked for a living and ride his cock good and hard, pinching his nipples hard enough to bring tears to Sam’s eyes, told him what a good boy he was, what a good little slut he was for Dean’s cock, how bad he knew Sam wanted to come, didn’t he, desperate to come for his big brother, but he couldn’t fucking come yet, wasn’t fucking allowed, had to let Dean use his ass some more because he felt so good on his cock…

“Maybe I should make you get me off a couple times before I let you come, Sam.”

The whimper Sam made at that was positively desperate. Dean laughed, filing that wicked little idea away for later, and kept fucking him, pistoning in and out, gripping Sam’s ass with both hands, making delicious grunts and moans, eliciting equally delicious cries and pleas from Sam.

Sam strained to spread his legs even wider for Dean, pushed back to take him even deeper, fuck his big brother better than he’d ever had it before, told Dean in his cock-roughened voice how good it felt, how he belonged to him, how he loved being Dean’s cockslut, fucking loved it, how he never wanted anyone to fuck him ever again, only Dean, only Dean.

“Damn straight,” Dean growled. He flipped Sam onto his side, top leg hauled up in the air, working Sam from a new angle, making him yelp and writhe, fisting Sam’s cock until he was shuddering on the verge of coming, then pinching the orgasm off at the base of his cock again. And again. And again.

After the fourth time, Sam broke down in sobs.

“What’s wrong, baby? Wanna come?”

Sam cried harder.“Please. Can't take it. Please. I’ll do anything.”

Dean turned Sam onto his back, leaned down and kissed him slow and deep, then kissed the tears from his face. “So good for me, baby boy.  Took so much for me. Better than I even hoped. So perfect. You earned it.” And Dean pressed both hands to Sam’s face, sucked on his tongue, and rocked into him, then squirted more lube over his right hand and wrapped it around Sam’s cock.

“You belong to me, right?”

“Yours. Yours.” Sam was drawing near the edge of incoherence.

“Show me. Come for me. Come real hard for me, baby boy.”

Dean canted his hips, angling upward, and squeezed the end of Sam’s cock, working it relentlessly, demanding Sam’s orgasm.

And Sam could never deny Dean what he wanted. He came for Dean, came on command, came like it was ripping him apart, the orgasm driving surprised cries out of him, like he couldn’t believe what he was feeling, spilling hot and wet over Dean’s fist, hips bucking so hard he lifted Dean off the mattress, driving Dean deeper inside him. The sensation was too much, as was the sight of Sam convulsing in the throes of pleasure just for Dean, triggering him into his own orgasm, staccato thrusts of his hips and harsh, choked-off cries, curling his back and trembling as he came deep inside Sam, biting off a scream as the peak hit him, savaging him, stripping away all but the lizard brain, all but searing pleasure, and “mine” and “Sam.”

They lay like that for a long moment, catching their breath, Dean well trained in holding most of his weight off Sam even when fucked into a near-coma.

Sam stirred, pushed feebly at Dean’s weight. “Crushing me.”

Dean rolled heavily to the side, still clutching Sam. “You… that was…”

“Yeah.”

“You’re just…fucking… Christ, Sam.”

Exhausted, Sam still managed to crack a smile. “Liked that?”

“Mmm… gah…”

“Exactly.”

They drifted into sleep, and Sam awoke to Dean pulling the sheets up around them.

“Love you.”

“Fucking A you do.”

“Mean it.”

“Well, yeah. Just topped you like a boss.”

“Just wait until tomorrow, dude. Gonna take it out of your hide.”

Dean kissed the hollow of Sam’s throat. “Damn well hope so.”

 


End file.
